When he wakes up in the hospital, the victim of a brutal beating, John Doe has no memories of who he is or who hurt him. The cops can find nothing to identify him and he can’t remember anything to help… except the name Ethan and one recurring place from his dreams. Two words, and they’re not much, but it’s a start: Crooked Tree.

Detective Ethan Allens has never stopped searching for the two boys who vanished. When a report lands on Ethan’s desk that may give new leads, he jumps at the chance to follow them up. The man he finds isn’t his brother, but it’s someone who could maybe help him discover what happened twelve years ago.

What neither man can know is that facing the very real demons of the past could destroy any kind of future they may have together.

“5 Stars!! For a romance and a mystery all in one!! ~Jaime – Alpha Book Club

“…. a wonderful “second-chances” story and I couldn’t put it down once I started it.” ~Paul (Goodreads Review)

“You can’t go wrong with an R.J. Scott book, and this one is no different. Heartwarming and fun with a splash of angst and suspense…” ~Ceri (Goodreads Review)

Ethan must have nodded off at some point, waking to another coffee from Clare and a ten-minute warning that breakfast was about to be brought up to the patients. His neck ached, and he was semi curled up in the hard chair.

“Thought you needed this. If you want to go to the cafeteria, I can keep an eye on Adam.”

“No, I’ll stay here. Thank you, though.”

“I’ll see if I can get someone to bring you up something.”

A quick glance at his watch showed Ethan it was a few minutes after six. He checked his email. He’d only sent the information to Navy Liaison at late last night, but there was already a message back saying all efforts would be made to get the information to Cole Strachan. There was a group joke sent by one of the shift officers back at the precinct, and some spam. Other than that, nothing.

Ethan stood and stretched tall, sipped his hot coffee, and watched the April morning unfold before his eyes. Clare managed to scrounge up some pastries, and he ate them at the window, a hundred thoughts racing through his head.

A nurse disappeared into Adam’s room, and Ethan tensed in expectation. He desperately wanted to go in there, but would Adam even be interested in talking to him?

“Are you Ethan?” the nurse asked. The tray in her hand carried untouched food.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You can go in. He’s asking for you.”

As he started to walk past her, she thrust the tray at him. There was a plate of eggs, and a sorry-looking pancake. “Try to get him to eat some of this,” she said.

He took the tray, because he didn’t really have a choice, and went into Adam’s room, kicking the door shut behind him. There was no one in the bed, but the bathroom door was closed, so Ethan assumed that was where the errant Adam was. He placed the tray on the table and waited, looking out of the same window Adam had been standing at last night. From this angle and at this height, Ethan could see the water of Lake Michigan and watch the hospital parking lot grow busier by the minute.

The bathroom door opened. Ethan instinctively turned and wished he hadn’t, because now he was staring. Not so much at the pajama bottoms that rode low on slim hips, or the broad chest that had a smattering of hair, tapering to a happy trail downward, nor to the muscles in Adam’s arms. No, Ethan was staring at the scars—new ones and some way older by the look of them—bruises purple and yellow and green, and the tattoos.

Tribal tattoos circled Adam’s arms, over his right shoulder, and down onto his pec: big swathes of dark ink with finer detail in curls around muscles. Something that looked like old burns marked his neck. A body that had seen a lot, felt a lot.

“I don’t remember them,” Adam said, his voice lost. He ran his fingers over the tattoos as if touching them would bring back memories. “They must have hurt, don’t you think?”

Ethan thought of the small tattoo over his heart and recalled the discomfort of getting it. His hadn’t hurt; the million tiny pricks into his skin were nothing.

“Maybe,” he offered.

Adam turned a little and checked the tattoos in the mirror, peering close. “I wonder what they mean?”

When he turned, he exposed more marks on his back and the fine lines of a horse standing on his hind legs. Ethan inhaled sharply.

“What?” Adam snapped, attempting to see his back even though he couldn’t get the right angle. “What is it?”

“Your horse.”

Adam frowned. “That is my horse? I want to see that again, the detective took a photo but he didn’t have a copy for me.”

Ethan pulled out his cell and snapped a shot of the beautiful tattoo, then passed the phone to Adam, who stared at the picture.

“Why is it—” Any energy seemed to leave him in the exhalation of a sigh, and he slumped to sit on his bed. “—I remember this is a cell phone, but I don’t recall patterns on my own skin?”

From his research Ethan learned terms like brain centers and retrograde amnesia, alongside traumatic stress, he didn’t understand a lot of it. “I have no idea.”

Compassion welled inside Ethan, and he sat next to his old friend, pushing the tray toward him. “Eat your eggs,” he said gruffly.

Adam side-eyed him and huffed before taking the tray and resting it on the small hospital table. He forked some into his mouth, grimacing as he chewed and swallowed, but at least he ate half of what was there, and one cold, dry pancake.

“I need a proper breakfast,” Adam grumped.

“Like what?”

“Hot fresh bacon,” Adam said immediately, paling at what he was saying. “I think that I love bacon. I’d eat plates of the stuff if you gave them to me.”

“And real pancakes,” Ethan added. He reached over and poked at the sorry excuse for one that had been served. “But not like this one. Fluffy, steaming pancakes.”

Adam nodded and darted his tongue out to collect a small piece of egg resting on his lips. “Maple syrup,” he added softly.

“You always liked maple syrup.”

Adam finished the eggs and grimaced again. “When we get out of here, will you find me bacon?”

“Of course.”

“Real bacon, and pancakes with maple syrup. That sounds just like what I want to eat.”

Ethan’s chest tightened as Adam looked up at him under his eyelashes, his dark eyes holding humor. Adam and Justin had spent their childhoods getting Ethan to do what they wanted: the older brother with money from a part-time job, the one with the car. And he’d done everything they asked.

“I wouldn’t take you anywhere bad,” Ethan said

Adam pushed the tray to one side. “I need a shower, and then we go, right?”

“Right.”

“You should take photos of all my tattoos, so you could maybe find out more about me.”

“I know who you are. The rest will follow when your memories return.” He didn’t want to say that he’d already decided to email the tattoo of the horse to Jen, just in case she could track down where it had been done. It was a beautiful piece of work, and likely whoever did it would have it in a portfolio somewhere. Of course, that was a needle in a haystack. Who knew where Adam had been in the last twelve years? Chicago, where he was now? Or had he traveled from Montana to another city?

Adam looked at him, confused. “You said I disappeared. How old was I when that happened? Fifteen, you said?”

“You were nearly sixteen.”

Adam glanced down at himself, “And I’m twenty-eight now, so what happened in between?” He stood up and half turned. “You should get them all.”

Ethan did as Adam wanted, and pulled all the photos into one email, sending the whole lot to Jen with a particular request about tracking down the artist. Meanwhile, Adam went into the bathroom, closed the door, and left Ethan staring at the wood.

This is book two in the Montana series. I do not feel you have to read them in order though Both books are excellent so why not! Plus you meet the other characters that are in this book some as well.
Adam Strachan has been missing since he was 15. He and Justin Allens. Justin’s brother Ethan became a police detective to help keep searching for Adam and Justin when all others had given up. This is a sore spot between Ethan and his father, Marcus. Marcus wanted Ethan to follow his footsteps and keep his share of Crooked Tree alive.
Ethan gets a call from Chicago that they have a John Doe that mentioned Ethan and Crooked Tree Ranch. When Ethan arrives, he knows it’s Adam.
Adam has no memory of Ethan or anything but is willing to go home with him to try to get his memory back, but he feels a connection to Ethan. Small bits come back as they take the long ride home.
This is a very angsty story. It is well written and beautiful. I fell in love with Ethan right away. It was evident the moment we met him that he had feelings for Adam. I applaud RJ Scott that she walked us carefully through both Adam regaining his memory and Ethan exploring his feelings. Yes, he was in love. Yes the love had just begun, and both were very young love, first love, but she didn’t make it immediate on either man’s part as adults. They had to learn each other all over. The long trip home in the car and hotels helps all that.
There are a few surprises and twists. The sex is sensual, yet hot.
I loved this story, both men and his series. All three are on m favorites list for this year. I can’t wait for the next book!’
If you like ranchers, policeman, angsty stories, romance, surprising twists and some sensual man-sex you will love this book!

* I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review*

RJ Scott has been writing since age six when she was made to stay in at lunchtime for an infraction involving cookies and was told to write a story. Two sides of A4 about a trapped princess later, a lover of writing was born. She reads anything from thrillers to sci-fi to horror; however, her first real love will always be the world of romance. From billionaires, bodyguards and cowboys to SEALs, throwaways and veterinarians, she writes passionate stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and more than a hint of happily ever after.